


Discord and Rhyme

by Robin Hood (kjack89)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Crack Treated Seriously, Developing Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-25 05:51:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12524424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: "You a friend of Barba’s?” one of the guys following Carisi asked.“Who?” Carisi asked, buying time as he started dialing his phone in his coat pocket and praying that Barba picked up.“Don't play dumb,” the other snapped. “We can smell him all over you.”Carisi blinked, taken aback less by the attitude and more by what the man had said. “You cansmellhim?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Blame goes to everyone who didn't stop me.
> 
> Anyway, wanted to write something fun for Halloween and landed on this. Will likely be all of 2 chapters, and I mostly posted the first to motivate myself to actually finish this before Halloween. Posted from my phone, so forgive any wonky errors until I can get home and fix them.
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Title is from 'Hungry Like the Wolf' by Duran Duran. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

Carisi hesitated as he approached Barba’s office, surprised to see that the ADA was outside, talking to Carmen. Well, yelling at Carmen, more like, which was even more surprising, since Barba had once admitted to Carisi that if Carmen ever left him, he'd be entirely lost. “This isn't a negotiation,” Barba snapped. “I don't care what you have to tell Buchanan, but the trial can't start until November 6th. Am I understood?”

“Yes,” Carmen said, and Carisi thought it was to her credit that her voice was perfectly even when she responded.

Barba stormed back into his office without another word and Carisi slowly walked up to the desk. “I’ll take it he’s in a mood,” he said off-handedly, and Carmen gave him a wan smile.

“It's his time of the month,” she joked, though Carisi could see by the tightening of her eyes that she wasn't amused in the slightest. “You can head in if you need to. His schedule’s clear for the next twenty minutes or so.”

“Will he bite my head off if I do?” Carisi returned as a joke of his own.

Carmen laughed lightly. “Mr. Barba, bite your head off? _Never_.” Carisi laughed as well before heading in, though he was pretty sure he heard Carmen mutter behind him, “It’s your funeral.”

Barba didn't even glance up when Carisi entered his office without knocking. “What?” he snapped.

“Did you know it was me or do you just greet everyone who comes in your office that way?”

Now Barba did look up, glaring at Carisi. “I could smell the Staten Island all the way down the hall,” he retorted, but Carisi knew well enough to take Barba’s snideness in stride.

“The file from Liv,” he said instead, setting it down on the edge of Barba’s desk. “What's going on November 3rd?”

Barba stared blankly at him. “What do you mean?”

Carisi shrugged. “You said the trial couldn't start til the 6th, which is a Monday, which means it shoulda started on the 3rd, which is the Friday before, so I figured something must be goin’ on for you to postpone a trial…” He trailed off and flushed slightly at the look on Barba’s face. “I am a detective, you know. It doesn't take a genius to do simple deduction.”

“Induction, actually, but I forget that Fordham likely doesn't have a course on deductive vs inductive reasoning.” Still, for the first time all morning Barba sounded almost amused and Carisi allowed himself to relax slightly.

“It’s abductive reasoning, technically, if you wanna split hairs,” he said, because he couldn’t resist, and Barba rolled his eyes but also smiled slightly. “So, what, are you going out of town for the weekend on the 3rd?”

Barba rolled his eyes again. “Of course not,” he scoffed. “I don't push trials to accommodate my vacation schedule.”

Carisi nodded, because he couldn't really see Barba doing that either. “Doctor’s appointment?” he guessed.

“Did I miss the part where you announced we were playing twenty questions?” Barba asked, irritation creeping back in his voice.

Carisi held up his hands defensively. “Just wanted to make sure you didn't need anything. You seem stressed.” Barba raised an eyebrow and Carisi amended, “More stressed than usual.”

Something in Barba’s expression softened, just for a moment, the way it only ever seemed to when it was just him and Carisi alone. Carisi lived for those moments, even if they were few and far between these days. The fact that he had a crush — and despite what Amanda and Fin may say, it was _just_ a crush — on the ADA was probably SVU’s worst kept secret.

But despite how obvious his feelings may or may not have been, Barba had never crossed the line of strictly professional, and Carisi had long ago resigned himself to the fact that his feelings weren't returned.

No matter how many late nights he spent in Barba’s office.

No matter how many times they had gotten drinks together, just the two of them, after work.

No matter the fact that Barba smiled more when he was around Carisi than anyone else. Which still wasn't often enough, in Carisi’s opinion, because the rare sight of Barba’s smile could light up his entire day.

“I’m fine, Detective,” Barba said, and Carisi blinked to clear his thoughts. “If it'll make you sleep easier at night, I have a minor medical procedure scheduled for the 3rd, something I unfortunately can't reschedule. And since Buchanan’s only doing this is an attempt to force a deal…”

He trailed off and Carisi nodded. “I get it, Counselor,” he said. “And I'll get outta your hair.” He turned to leave, then paused. “Oh, and uh, you may wanna buy Carmen lunch today. I think you owe her.”

Barba looked at him flatly. “I'll keep that in mind,” he said before adding pointedly, “Now unless you're planning on getting a job with HR…”

Carisi laughed. “See you later,” he said, heading out and pausing by Carmen’s desk long enough to tell her, loudly enough so that Barba could hear, “I told him he owes you lunch.”

Carmen laughed lightly. “At this rate, I'm going to owe _him_ lunch for continuing to let you into his office.”

Carisi winked at her. “Totally worth it, though, am I right?”

Carmen just laughed and waved him off, and Carisi finally took his leave, heading down the hallway toward the elevator. Once inside, he pulled out his phone to make a note that Barba had a medical thing on the 3rd, and wondered if it would be too desperate of him to bring dinner over to Barba’s apartment.

Hey, Barba needed to eat, and if he was having some kind of procedure, chances were that he wouldn't want to make dinner for himself. So Carisi could save him the cost of ordering delivery.

And maybe get himself invited to stay for awhile in the process.

Just because Barba didn't reciprocate his feelings didn't mean Carisi couldn't try. And as his ma had always told him, the quickest way to any man’s heart was through his stomach.

Mind made up, Carisi set an alert in his calendar and pocketed his phone, already debating over what kind of food he was going to bring Barba in a week’s time.

* * *

 

He landed on chicken noodle soup.

Sure, it was probably a cliche, but sometimes things were cliched for a reason. And Nonna Carisi’s recipe was legendary for its healing properties and decent likelihood of getting the eater to fall in love with the cook.

If it had worked for his grandmother, it could work for Carisi.

At least, that’s what he told himself when he flashed his badge at Barba’s doorman to get into his building, and as he took the stairs two at a time. It’s what he told himself as he paused in front of Barba’s door and smoothed the front of his coat.

Then he knocked on the door.

He expected a confused hesitation from Barba before he got to the door, since he probably wasn’t expecting company. But Carisi didn’t expect silence, as if the apartment was empty.

Carisi knocked again. “Barba?” he called. “It's Carisi. I brought soup. Wanted to check in on you.”

Nothing.

Carisi checked his watch, his brow furrowed. He highly doubted Barba had already gone to bed, but then again, maybe he wasn't feeling well after whatever his medical procedure had been.

Or, hell, maybe he had taken advantage of an evening off work and gone out. Maybe that's why he'd repeatedly ignored Carisi’s advances.

For a moment, Carisi just stared at the door, tempted to knock a third time but knowing it probably wouldn't do any good. He was equally tempted to call Barba, but if the man was out having a good time, the last thing Carisi wanted was to interrupt.

He hesitated only a moment longer before slumping in a thoroughly dejected fashion toward the elevator.

Well, at least he had an entire vat of his nonna’s soup to nurse him through the disappointment.

He was so lost in his thoughts (and in his sulking) that he was halfway to his squad car before the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and Carisi chanced a glance behind him.

He was being followed.

Two big, tough looking guys in dark-colored hoodies were about twenty steps behind him, and Carisi’s pulse jumped erratically. “Can I help you?” Carisi asked, shifting the bag he was carrying with the container of soup inside so that his badge was clearly visible.

Neither seemed remotely perturbed by the sight of it. “You a friend of Barba’s?” one asked.

“Who?” Carisi asked, buying time as he started dialing his phone in his coat pocket and praying that Barba picked up.

“Don't play dumb,” the other snapped. “We can smell him all over you.”

Carisi blinked, taken aback less by the attitude and more by what the man had said. “You can _smell_ him?” he repeated. Both men just stared back and Carisi decided now was not the time to push the issue. “Look, I don't know what you want with Barba—”

“Oh, we don't want anything with Barba,” the first said, a feral smile stretching across his face. “We just want some quality time with his plaything.”

“His — what?” Carisi said, baffled.

The first guy took a step closer, and Carisi could've sworn his eyes flashed yellow in the dim light of the almost completely full moon. “Your friend Barba doesn't want us having fun in his territory,” he said, and now Carisi knew he wasn't imagining it as his nose and mouth started elongating, and he stared in growing horror at the shift taking place in front of him. “But why should he be the only one who gets to play with his food?”

Carisi opened his mouth but nothing came out as dark hair started sprouting across the guy’s face. Before his brain could catch up with what his eyes were seeing, a snarl tore through the night and out of nowhere, a massive, dog-like creature leapt from the shadows to stand in front of Carisi, facing down the two men and growling so deeply that Carisi could almost feel the sidewalk reverberating from it.

The two men exchanged glances, and without warning, the dark hair receded and the first man’s face returned to normal. “This isn't over,” he said, and Carisi couldn't help but notice that he directed his words at the dog.

Carisi also couldn't help but notice that the dog looked an awful lot like a wolf. Except that there were no wolves in Manhattan, at least the last time he'd checked. Not that he’d ever checked, because he _knew_ that there were no wolves in Manhattan.

Except for the one standing in front of him.

Carisi probably should've used the creature’s distraction to flee to the relative safety of his car but he couldn't seem to move, rooted to the spot as the creature’s growls faded and the fur along its back flattened.

Then, slowly, the wolf turned to face him.

Carisi’s heart was pounding like a jackhammer in his chest and he slowly held his hands up placatingly. “Hey, uh, I'm not gonna hurt you—” he started in his most soothing voice, but to his surprise, the wolf let out a huff of something that sounded like...amusement.

As if the idea of Carisi being able to hurt it was ridiculous.

Which, frankly, it probably was.

The wolf cocked its head slightly as if waiting for Carisi to say something else. “Uh, thank you,” Carisi said, his voice higher-pitched than he was proud to admit.

The wolf took a step towards him and Carisi stumbled backward. The wolf paused, its eyes narrowing in something like annoyance.

Something that Carisi recognized.

Because he knew those eyes, would've been able to pick out that shade of green and that look of annoyance anywhere, and he froze, gaping at the wolf, taking in the equally familiar color of its fur.

It didn't make any sense.

It _couldn't_ be.

And yet—

“Barba?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said this was going to be 2 chapters? Apparently I lied.
> 
> The third and final chapter will be posted tomorrow or I will be deeply disappointed in myself and y'all should be too.

"Barba?"

Carisi’s voice was no more than a hoarse whisper, but the wolf flinched as if he had yelled, and before Carisi could say anything else, it turned and fled, disappearing into the shadows.

Carisi seemed frozen in place, staring at the spot where the wolf had been, trying to wrap his mind around what he had seen, trying to rationalize everything that had just happened. There was no way it was possible — and equally no way it was just a coincidence.

But how in the hell could _Barba_ be a…

“A what?” Carisi asked out loud, starting to smile despite himself because the entire situation was ridiculous. “A werewolf?”

Even just saying the word caused him to almost laugh.

The laugh died in his throat when he remembered the way one of his followers’ faces had changed, had...transformed.

If they weren’t werewolves, then what other explanation was there?

It was in an almost numb haze that Carisi finally got back into his car and drove home, and he had sat down with his laptop before he even realized what he was doing, the word ‘werewolf’ typed in his google search bar.

Then Carisi paused, staring at the word and the blinking cursor.

Then he laughed.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffed, setting his laptop down and running his hand through his hair. He wasn’t Bella fucking Swan, for chrissakes, and googling myths on werewolves wasn’t going to do anything to convince him — or not — that Barba was actually a werewolf.

In fact, there was only one piece of evidence he could work with, and while it wouldn’t prove anything, it would at least lend some credibility to either side.

Quickly, he googled a list of full moon dates before opening a separate tab and pulling up the court record, settling in to crosscheck the dates of the full moon against Barba’s court cases.

Almost two hours later, he set his laptop down again, feeling almost sick to his stomach.

Not once in the entire six years that Barba had worked as a Manhattan ADA, had he had a court case on the day of the full moon. In fact, there were very few instances where he had court on the day before or after the full moon either.

And considering what a pain in the ass it was getting judges, ADAs and defense attorneys’ schedules to line up, Carisi knew that there was no way that was a coincidence.

He hesitated before reaching for his phone, and hesitated a moment longer before typing out a text.

 _We need to talk_.

He hesitated only a second more before pressing send.

* * *

 

“I figured it out,” Carisi said, playing with the lid of his coffee cup, his knee bouncing underneath the table as much from nerves as from overcaffeination after tossing and turning all night. “And I figured if there was anyone that I could talk to, anyone who might make me feel a little less crazy…”

He trailed off, and Carmen raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of her chai latte. “I’d ask what exactly you think you figured out,” she said, her tone even, “but Mr. Barba respects you too much for me to treat you like an idiot.”

The look Carisi gave her was equal parts surprised and grateful. “And here I thought Barba didn’t respect me at all,” he joked.

Carmen laughed lightly. “Hasn’t your discovery made you realize you may not know everything you thought you did about him?”

Carisi’s smile faded. “Why—” he started, though he didn’t have a good end to the question.

“Why didn’t he tell you?” Carmen guessed, looking at him almost incredulously. “Would you have believed him if he did?”

Carisi shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure that I do anyway,” he admitted.

Carmen’s expression shifted slightly and she leaned forward. “I’ve known about Mr. Barba’s...condition, shall we say, for years. Ever since I started working for him when he was still a Brooklyn ADA. He doesn’t know that I know, or at the very least, we’ve never talked about the fact that I know. And I’m still not sure that I believe it.” She shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “But the important thing is that I’ve made peace with it. Mr. Barba’s a good man, and nothing about this changes that.”

“What, just like that?” Carisi asked, a little weakly. “How’m I supposed to just make my peace with the fact that once a month, a Manhattan ADA transforms into a massive wolf?”

Carmen arched an eyebrow at him. “By realizing that it doesn’t change anything,” she said simply. “Has it affected his ability to do his job?”

“Well, no,” Carisi said. “But—”

He broke off, unsure what to say, and Carmen’s expression softened. “I don’t pretend that I know what’s going on between you and Mr. Barba,” she said, and Carisi flushed slightly at the implication of her words, “and I certainly don’t pretend to know anything at all about his feelings on the matter, but if what you now know changes how you feel about him, well — I imagine that’s part of the reason why he’s never pursued anything.” She gave Carisi an examining look. “Assuming, of course, that there was anything to pursue.”

“You think, uh, you think Barba wanted to pursue something with me?” Carisi asked.

She gave him a look. “Did you not listen to a word I just said?”

Carisi flashed her an almost nervous version of his most-charming smile. “I mean, I did, but I was hoping you might elaborate.”

Carmen rolled her eyes and looked so much like her boss when doing so that the breath seemed to catch in Carisi’s throat. “What I think is that this is a conversation best had with Mr. Barba,” she said firmly. “At least, once you’ve made up your mind about how you feel.”

Carisi nodded slowly. “Thanks,” he offered. “I, uh, appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.”

Carmen’s expression softened again. “I’d like to think that we can consider each other friends after all this time,” she told him. “Depending, of course, on the outcome of your talk with Mr. Barba.”

“I’d like that, too,” Carisi assured her. “And, uh, I will talk to Barba. After — after I wrap my head around this whole thing.”

Carmen nodded slowly. “And after today.” When Carisi looked up at her, confused, she told him patiently, “It’s still the full moon.”

Carisi winced. “Good point.”

Carmen stood. “I have full faith that after you give it a little thought, you’ll realize that this doesn’t change anything,” she said with a confidence Carisi wish he felt. “Oh, and Detective?”

“Yeah?”

Carmen smiled pleasantly at him. “If you hurt him, I will make your life hell.”

Under ordinary circumstances, Carisi might’ve laughed that off. Hell, if Carmen had threatened to kill him or hurt him, he still might’ve laughed it off. But looking at her standing there, still smiling at him, Carisi knew that she absolutely meant it.

And the thought made his blood run cold.

“It’s the last thing I want to do,” Carisi told her honestly.

“Good,” she said. “Have a good day, Detective.”

As Carisi watched Carmen walk away, he sat back in his seat, fiddling with the lid of his coffee cup again. He wanted to be able to say that it didn’t change anything in regards to how he felt about Barba, but how could it not? To know that the man he’d not-so-secretly been harboring feelings for for the past few years was secretly a— was harboring some secrets of his own...How could Carisi possibly come to terms with that? Especially since that secret involved him supposedly turning into a man-eating wolf once a month?

Well, ok, Carisi didn’t know if Barba turned into a _man-eating_ wolf, but he figured he was allowed some latitude in his assumptions.

To know that the man he’d spent so much time working with, studying with, getting drinks and dinner with, to know that the entire time, he was hiding something like this…

Something dropped in the pit of Carisi’s stomach.

Barba _had_ been hiding this from him, from Carisi who was not only an open book but was also no stranger to prying at every aspect of Barba’s personal life. It would have been so much easier for Barba to tell him all those years ago now to just leave him alone. Instead, Barba had, however reluctantly at first, let Carisi in, made a space for him in his life, shared details about almost every other aspect of his life, save for the one. And he had never allowed what was building between them to go any further than colleagues bordering on friends, but not because he was afraid of letting Carisi in (at least, Carisi didn’t think so anyway).

Because Barba was protecting him.

Just like Barba had protected him on the street outside of his apartment.

Because—

Carisi shook his head, setting his coffee cup down definitively on the café table. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, not before talking to Barba. But knowing as he thought he finally did that Barba had hidden this from him less out of mistrust and more out of a desire to protect him, well...

It sure as hell changed things. Changed them for the better, at least as far as Carisi was concerned.

And now all he had to do was talk to Barba.

After the full moon, of course.

Just in case there was something to the whole ‘man-eating’ thing.


	3. Chapter 3

“I brought coffee,” Carisi said without preamble, holding one out to Barba, who looked tired, standing in the doorway of his apartment and blinking at Carisi as he had never expected to see him there. Or had never expected to see him again. “Thought about bringing you a dog bone, but I figured the joke was a little too on the nose, you know?”

Barba stared blankly at him. “I — what?” he asked, unusually inarticulate.

“Can I come in?”

For a moment, Barba looked like he might refuse to let Carisi in, but then he shrugged and took a step back. Carisi brushed past him, talking over his shoulder as he did. “I thought about bringing you the soup that I made for you on Friday, but I figured you’d probably appreciate the coffee more, and—”

“Carisi,” Barba said quietly, but Carisi ignored him, setting the coffees down on Barba’s kitchen table.

It was the first time he had ever actually been inside Barba’s apartment, and he knew he should be taking the time to take it all in, but Carisi’s nerves were getting the best of him and manifesting as his trademark overactive mouth. “—And since I figured you probably had a late night last night. I mean, I don’t exactly know what you did with your night but I’ve seen enough movies to imagine, and—”

“Carisi.”

Carisi fell silent for the first time, stilled as much by Barba’s tone as anything. Barba closed his apartment door but made no move to cross over to Carisi, to even take a step in his direction, hanging back, something wary in his expression. “Why are you here?” Barba asked, and when Carisi looked pointedly at the coffee, Barba rolled his eyes and added, “Other than to bring me coffee?”

“Oh, uh…” Carisi debated for a second over how best to put it and opted for the truth. “I talked to Carmen. About your— uh, your condition.”

“My condition,” Barba repeated, with a slight quirk of his eyebrow. “And what condition is that?”

Carisi met his gaze evenly. “Carmen said that you respected me too much for her to treat me like an idiot. I sorta assumed you’d extend me the same courtesy.”

Barba’s lips twitched toward a smile, though they never quite got there. “So you spoke to Carmen,” he said, finally taking a cautious step toward Carisi, his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah,” Carisi said, matching Barba’s tone. “I, uh, I wanted to run it by someone before I came over and accused you of transforming into a massive wolf. Just to make sure I wasn’t completely crazy”

Something darkened in Barba’s expression. “I wish that you were,” he sighed, almost quietly enough that Carisi missed it. Barba drew a hand across his face and sighed again. “So. I imagine you have questions.”

Carisi gave him a look. “Of course I have questions,” he scoffed. “Mainly, who the hell were those guys on Friday?”

Barba blinked. “They — they were other...werewolves.” It was the first time either of them had said the word, and Barba lifted his chin almost defiantly, but Carisi kept his expression neutral. “Most werewolves live and hunt in packs with their own territory, but most major cities are neutral territory, the haven for werewolves who have no desire to be a part of pack life.” A shadow passed across Barba’s face. “Of course, living and working among humans poses certain...risks.”

“Because you could be discovered?” Carisi asked.

“Because you could accidentally kill those closest to you,” Barba corrected flatly. “Whether by your own actions, or by the actions of one of your kind. Werewolves — relationships between werewolves and humans are not known for their longevity. And they generally end poorly for the human in the mix.”

Carisi nodded slowly. “Well, at least this explains why you weren’t afraid to give your home address out to someone who threatened to kill you: anyone who showed up would’ve been a chew toy.”

Barba let out an incredulous snort and Carisi smiled slightly. “Christ,” Barba muttered, shaking his head slowly. “I’m glad you already feel like you can make jokes about this.”

“Yeah, well, it’s what I do,” Carisi said bracingly. “So Manhattan’s a neutral zone — so what did those two want with you?”

Barba’s expression sharpened into something fierce. “I am — unfortunately renowned in certain circles for refusing to get involved in the political aspects of werewolf territory disputes and pack arrangements. That, coupled with my insistence that werewolves not interfere with my day job or any humans involved therein has...not endeared me to certain segments of the werewolf population. My guess is that the two on Friday were hoping to send a message.”

Carisi bit back his immediate question of what type of message they had planned on using him for and instead huffed a heavy sigh. “Jesus Christ, is making political enemies just a talent of yours?”

Barba stared at him. “ _That’s_ what you got out of that?” he asked incredulously.

Carisi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a werewolf, I got it,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “But can’t you go thirty seconds without running your mouth and pissing someone off? I swear to God I’m never gonna get a good night’s sleep again at this rate.”

Barba was still staring at him, but something seemed to have thawed in his expression, some incremental softness as he took a few more steps toward Carisi. “You — how are you not freaking out about this?”

“Freaking out?” Carisi repeated. “I didn’t think that was a phrase in your vocabulary, Counselor.”

“I thought the circumstances merited it,” Barba sniped without any real heat. “And that doesn’t answer my question.”

Carisi shrugged, and picked the cup of coffee he’d brought for Barba up off the table and held it out for him. “Carmen talked me through the worst of it, I guess. She told me that it didn’t change anything, and she was right.”

Barba took the cup of coffee, his fingers brushing against Carisi’s as he did. “You don’t think it changes anything?” he asked quietly.

“Well, I mean, it changes some things,” Carisi said. “For starters, this opens a whole _world_ of wolf-related puns that’ll leave you _howling_ with laughter—” Barba choked on his sip of coffee and Carisi grinned. “And I see I’m off to a great start.” His smile slipped, just slightly. “But, uh, more importantly than that, it doesn’t change…” He hesitated, but then figured he’d come this far and said this much. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you.”

Barba flinched, and he looked away. “Carisi—” he started, but Carisi could already tell where he was going just by the way his mouth shaped the vowels of his name, and he decided not to let him finish his thought.

“I know what you’re gonna say, because you’re more predictable than you think,” Carisi said evenly. “But I also think that you know that this coulda been something a long time ago. And while I’m glad I finally understand why you weren’t willing to let it, I think you don’t know all the facts.”

“Such as what?” Barba asked, his tone brittle.

“You’re worried you could hurt me,” Carisi said. “I’m worried I could hurt you.”

Barba stared at him. “Detective, no offense, but I think that I can take care of myself.”

Carisi shrugged. “Maybe. But maybe not.”

Barba’s brow furrowed and he just looked at Carisi for a long moment before jerking his head toward the couch. Carisi followed him over and sat on one end, watching as Barba settled into the other, his brow still furrowed. “So,” Barba said, pronouncing the word like an indictment. “You think you could hurt me. If this is about my feelings, Detective—”

“It’s not.”

It was Carisi’s turn to deliver the words flatly, and as much as he had thought about having this exact conversation with Barba, if perhaps not under these circumstances, he couldn’t quite seem to meet Barba’s eyes. “After, uh, after the Tom Cole shooting, I, uh, I had to go stay with Rollins for a bit. I, uh, I wasn’t sleeping well — nightmares and all.” Something tightened in Barba’s expression but Carisi didn’t let him interrupt. “Anyway, uh, one night, Rollins got out of bed to check on Jesse and—” He broke off, the breath catching in his throat at the memory, rubbing his palms almost compulsively against his jeans. “I don’t know what happened, if she startled me, if I thought she was an intruder, or what, but, uh, the next thing I knew, I had drawn my sidearm and was pointing my gun at her.”

Barba stared at him, his expression completely unreadable, and Carisi continued to avoid looking at him. “Turns out I have PTSD,” he said, playing with the cuff of his shirt sleeve. “I always thought that was for people who went through war, or went through a trauma, but, uh, apparently it’s not only for that.”

“You had a gun pressed against your head,” Barba said, his voice low. “That _is_ a trauma.”

Carisi laughed, but it was weak. “No, that’s the job,” he said before sighing. “But that’s also not the point. My point is, I coulda killed my best friend that night. Hell, imagine what I coulda done if it was Jesse that startled me instead of Amanda. And Amanda — she was incredible that night, she talked me down until I snapped outta it, and she knew it wasn’t me, that I would never…” He trailed off, shaking his head at the thought. “Anyway, she talked to Liv and Liv got me in to see her therapist, and I’m doing better.”

“What’s your point?” Barba asked, more curious than anything, his voice and expression soft as he looked at Carisi with something like genuine concern.

“My point is, my recovery’s not perfect,” Carisi said calmly. “I still get triggered by things and watching a man fall to his death recently because I couldn’t hold on to him sure as shit didn’t help matters. My point is, I could just as easily end up hurting you as you could hurt me. My point is, maybe we all have a little bit of a monster inside of us. But that doesn’t mean we have to shut out the good parts — the human parts.”

Barba’s expression was still soft, even as he managed a small half-smile. “You think that you’re a good part?” he asked, aiming for teasing but his tone was too gentle, sweet even. Or as sweet as Barba ever got.

Carisi shrugged. “Well,” he said, “I think I could be.”

“Yeah,” Barba said, and Carisi realized for the first time that somehow, they had both left their respective corner of the couch during his speech, their knees now knocking together from how closely they were sitting. “I think you could be, as well.”

It may have been Carisi who took the plunge first, who leaned in to close the space between them, but Barba was there to meet him, as naturally as if they had been doing this for years, his mouth opening against Carisi’s, his hand balling in Carisi’s t-shirt to pull him closer while the other one wound through Carisi’s hair.

Years of missed chances and pent up feelings were unleashed in every movement of Barba’s lips against his, in the scrape of Barba’s teeth against his lower lip, in the taste of coffee still on his tongue, and Carisi let himself get lost in the moment, in the movement, in everything he had ever wanted.

Maybe they did both have a little bit of a monster inside them, but here, kissing him on his couch, Carisi had never felt like Barba was more human.

“This is a terrible idea,” Barba warned quietly when they finally broke apart, one hand still tangled in Carisi’s hair.

Carisi grinned. “Well, I don’t think you’ve ever once accused me of having a good idea, so heaven forbid we start now.” Barba rolled his eyes and Carisi leaned in to kiss him again, pressing him back against the couch and laughing against Barba’s lips when the other man almost growled. “Down, boy. Heel.”

Barba pulled back to glare at him. “I’m sorry, did you want this to end before it even got a chance to begin?”

"I'm not worried about it," Carisi said nonchalantly.

"Oh?" Barba asked, quirking up a smile.  "And why's that?"

Carisi grinned.

"I've been following you around for years, Counselor," he told him.  "Who knows better than me that you're all bark and no bite?"

"Well," Barba started, glancing down at Carisi's lips again.  "Maybe not _no_ bite..."

Carisi’s confident smirk faded, just slightly. “Uh, if you bite me, don't I get turned into a werewolf?”

Barba rolled his eyes. “See, this was the type of questions I was hoping to avoid.”

“What, you don't think I deserve to ask some basic questions at the beginning of our relationship?” Carisi protested, his smile back in place.

“Oh, this is a relationship now?” Barba asked.

“I mean, I’d like it to be,” Carisi said, too earnest to be misconstrued as joking, and Barba’s expression softened again. “Considering, uh, you know my darkest secret and now I know yours.”

“Ah, yes, the thing all great romance is borne from,” Barba said dryly.

“Rafael, I've been trying to date you for four years now,” Carisi said patiently. “Don't you think it's past time you threw me a bone?” Barba glared at him and Carisi snorted a laugh. “The pun that time was accidental, hand to God.”

“You're lucky that I find that endearing,” Barba said warningly.

Carisi leaned in to kiss him once more, lightly. “I'm lucky in more ways than that.”

Barba snorted. “Because I'm such a catch,” he muttered darkly before standing. “Come on.”

Carisi blinked at him. “Where are we going?” he asked, even as he allowed Barba to pull him to his feet.

“Well, forgive me if I'm wrong, but most relationships involve going out on a date. And seeing as how neither of us has eaten…” Barba trailed off, smiling slightly at the look on Carisi’s face. “I'll assume you're amenable.”

“Uh, yeah,” Carisi said. “Definitely amenable.”

“Good,” Barba said. “I'm thinking steak. I have a craving for rare meat.” Carisi froze for a moment and Barba smirked at him. “You're going to make this very easy for me.”

Carisi rolled his eyes, but he was grinning as he took Barba’s hand, his grin widening when Barba let him.

It would be easy for them, because it was them, because they had years of history to fall back on. It would also be hard, harder than either wanted to admit, for much the same reason and for a million more: because of their age difference, because of their jobs, because Barba had the unfortunate problem of turning into a wolf every 28 days.

Because they were both human.

Of that, Carisi had never been more certain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to everyone who indulges my flights of fancy. 
> 
> Thanks especially to AHumanFemale for providing some of the best lines — couldn't do it without you!!
> 
> I hope everyone has a safe, spooky and very happy Halloween!!


End file.
